


An Unnatural Disaster

by eu_bean



Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: Lowkey ZoEvan/Bandtrees as well, M/M, Trans Connor, Trans Male Character, deadnaming - trigger warning, kleinphy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-25
Updated: 2018-02-25
Packaged: 2019-03-23 17:33:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13792656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eu_bean/pseuds/eu_bean





	An Unnatural Disaster

Sunlight streamed through the stripes of Jared's blinds, dark grey sheets in a ruffled mess and legs tangled together. Connor was sprawled across Jared's body, drooling slightly on the chest of the latter and Jared was snoring quietly, hand protectively around his boyfriend's waist.

Connor groaned as the light striped across his eyes, making it impossible to continue sleeping. He shifted around and rolled over, sitting up and rubbing his watery eyes. 

"Mmmm. . . asshole. . . . Now I'm cold. . ." Jared whined, rolling so his face was in his pillow.

"Shut up," Connor said dully, rubbing his sore ribs. Thankfully, he got his binder off before he passed out. Sometimes getting wasted didn't help with his self care aspects. He got up, the sheets falling off and revealing the fact he was completely naked. He felt a slight bit of wetness between his thighs, moaning with distaste. He headed into Jared's bathroom, but not before stepping on a filled condom that was tied on the floor. He gagged, picking it up with his forefinger and thumb and tossing it in the trash.

Jared's bathroom was messy; deodorant, Axe Body Spray, Crest For Kids toothpaste, etc. Connor sat down on the toilet and cleaned up the mess of lube and his own cum, then getting up, washing his hands, and grabbing the hairbrush he kept there, and brushing through his ratted hair.

"Fuckin'. . . I can't even fucking remember what happened last night, but I can tell you were pulling my hair," Connor called from the bathroom, still brushing.

There was a sleepy chuckle from Jared, who replied, "Sounds 'bout right."

Connor grumbled and finished brushing his hair, tying it into a manbun. "Hey babe? I gotta head home soon to do my T shot," he reminded.

"That's today?" Jared asked, getting out of bed and strolling up behind Connor. He wrapped his hands around his waist, kissing the skin of his shoulder. "Have fun stabbing yourself."

Connor laughed dryly. "It's not that deep, Karen."

"But you don't gotta do that for a while, right? We could grab a fifty and go to Mel's and get breakfast? Lil mornin' date?" Jared offered, lisping slightly. He pulled away, grabbing his glasses that were strewn on the ground. "Come on, babe!"

"Sure," Connor answered and put down the brush, going back to the room and pulling on his briefs. He then found his packer, which had been thrown across the room.

"Okie dokie, macaroni." Jared snorted at his own words, grabbing some khaki shorts and pulling those on after his boxer briefs. He grabbed a Firefly shirt and put that on, along with a red outer layer button down that he never cared to button.

Connor grabbed the same thing he wore the day before; ripped skinny jeans and a loose old Green Day shirt. "Are we taking your car?"

"Yeah. It's not like I still talk to Evan for fun."

* * *

**_4 MONTHS LATER_ **

* * *

Connor flushed the toilet. He had just puked again. He thought he was sick. For the last 4 months he thought he was sick with something, because every morning he was puking. 

"Do you need anything, honey?" Cynthia asked, peeking in with a mug of steaming tea for him.

"Fuck off. . . " he groaned and wiped his mouth.

His mother didn't even flinch; she was used to it. "I scheduled a doctor's appointment. . ." she informed.

"Great. They're gonna go into the waiting room and call out; 'Birthname' Murphy?" Connor retorted angrily, getting up and washing his hands in the sink. He splashed water on his face, coughing a little.

"It's today at 2:30," Cynthia added and set down the cup on the counter.

Connor looked at the cup. "The fuck is that?"

"Language," Cynthia scolded, but let go quickly. "It's lemon. To soothe the nausea."

Connor laughed, a little miffed still. He grabbed the cup, not looking at her. He then took a sip, swishing it in his mouth before spitting it into the sink. "That tastes like fucking garbage." He not-so-gently set down the cup on the tile counter and stormed out, slamming his room's door and flopping onto the bed. Angsty teen, he knows, but he felt like shit and nothing was helping.

A few hours later of meme-scrolling and watching Jenna Marbles on YouTube and 2pm rolled around; Zoe knocking on Connor's door. "Come on, asswipe."

"Fuck off, skankmuffin." 

"Mom says we gotta go!" she called.

"Well tell mom to fuck off!" Connor yelled back.

There was silence for a moment.

"Dad! Connor won't come out!" Zoe wailed and Connor groaned, getting up.

"Just fuck off! I gotta put on my binder!" Connor snapped, pulling off his loose sleeping shirt and putting on his black binder. He then grabbed a shirt that said 'I was depressed before depression was cool'. He adjusted the slight lumps on his chest and tried making it look flatter, despite him already having a relatively flat chest.

He headed out of his bedroom and Zoe followed after him. "Mom? Can we stop at Dutch Bros.?" she asked.

"We're going to be late if we do that," Cynthia responded.

Zoe groaned. "Thanks, Connnor."

" _Thanks, Connor_ ," Connor mocked her, flicking her upside the head.

She rubbed her temple and flipped him off. He reciprocated and flipped her off as well.

"Girls!" Cynthia interjected annoyedly, holding her purse and keys and trying to get them out the door.

Connor flinched slightly at the term. They all headed out and to the SUV and Zoe grabbed the passenger door's handle. "I call shotgun!"

"No fucking way! It's my appointment!" Connor argued and pushed her away, making her stumble back.

"Fuck you!" Zoe argued back, folding her arms. "I wanna ride shotgun!"

"Let your sister-- brother have the front seat," Cynthia ordered. Zoe just groaned and got in the back seat, while Connor took the front seat and pulled out his phone. He started scrolling again, on his Twitter for a moment and checking a new Trixie Mattel tweet, then to Instagram and admiring Farrah Moan's account. The usual.

They drove for about 10 minutes before parking in the Kaiser building's parking lot. They walked in, Connor still on his phone and not paying attention. Up the stairs, despite Connor's protest, saying that he wanted to take the elevator. Zoe said he needed the exercise because of the weight he was gaining, so he flicked her again. When they got up the flight of stairs, Connor was winded and he took some deep breaths to fix that. He hated his binder sometimes.

The three walked in the grey and white waiting room, and Cynthia lead her kids to to the front desk. "I have an appointment with Dr. Charles for Sophia Murphy."

Goddamn birthname. Connor clenched his fists and tried not to let it get to him. He couldn't change it, anyways.

The receptionist typed in the name, and Connor tuned out the rest until they were done. He went and plopped on the sterile grey seat and got on his phone, grumbling as he went on Alaska Thunderfuck's Instagram for comfort. 

After five or so minutes of waiting, the door opened and a nurse lady called, "Sophia Murphy?"

Connor shut off his phone, physically feeling his mood drop as he was forced to remember that cursed name. Cynthia followed Connor, along with Zoe, who had her arms folded.

The nurse put an orange band around Connor's wrist, her knuckles brushing against some scabbed-over scars and some old, healed ones. Connor winced in slight pain, and she finished with the bracelet. 

"Okay, height and weight, then we'll check your blood pressure."

6'0", 116 LBs., blood pressure; 124. A little elevated, but that was because he was nervous as fuck.

They took him into the room and started clocking away things on the computer. After a while, Dr. Charles came in.

"And the nausea and vomiting has been going on for four months?" the doctor asked, typing on her computer.

"Four months," Cynthia confirmed.

Dr. Charles nodded and thought for a moment, tapping her ballpoint pen on her leg and biting her lip. "Alright. We'll take a urine sample, first, to rule out certain causes of the symptom."

"What?" Connor tuned back in.

"I'll grab a sample cup and I'll show you to the restroom," Charles continued.

"I'm not gonna piss in a fucking cup," Connor said quietly, yet angrily. He fucking hated the doctor's office sometimes.

"Soph-- Connor--" Cynthia tried to help it again, grabbing his hand and squeezing it. And for some magic mother reason, Connor managed to calm down. He took a deep breath, a technique him and Cynthia were working on, and groaned distastefully.

"Fine."

Connor did not enjoy pissing all over his hand in an attempt to aim in the cup, but then again, not having a penis or at least an STP, he did pretty good. 

He had a flashing thought; would they find weed in his piss? So he grabbed his phone and Googled it. Since it wasn't a drug test, then no. Great. 

"And we'll get your results in a twenty-four to forty-eight hours," Dr. Charles said as she lead them out, Connor not much paying attention. Zoe was on her phone as well, and Cynthia was the only one who gave the doctor attention.

"Thank you so much, Doctor," she thanked as they headed out.

Back to the SUV, and Connor got in shotgun without argument. Zoe kicked the back of his chair to get back at him, and he turned around and snapped at her to 'fuck all the way up my asshole off'.

* * *

"Fuck you!" Connor yelled at Larry, who was reading the news on his phone.

"S-- Connor!" Cynthia snapped, still having trouble with the name change. Connor sent two middle fingers to his mother and father, storming out and up the stairs. The door slammed loudly, and Zoe flinched from the table.

She put down her phone. "He's just being a huge asshole. . ." she mumbled, voice shaky.

"She's having mood swings. Probably on her period," Larry grumbled. "Women are so tough. I'm stuck with three of them."

"Connor's not a girl, dad," Zoe snapped back.

" _Sophia,_ " Larry corrected. "She's a girl. She's got a--a," he made hand motions, " _vagina,_ " argued back Larry as he took a sip of his coffee, very sure about his opinion.

Zoe frowned and went back on her phone, not arguing any more with her father. He had the power to take away privileges, as a parent, and she knew her limits. Unlike Connor. Sadly.

The room was quiet, other than some vague banging sounds and the beginning of loud rock music playing from Connor's room as he tried to calm down. The home phone rang, and Cynthia quickly went to get it. Zoe listened a little bit.

"Oh, yes. This is his mother," Cynthia said into the phone. The room went silent for another moment.

"Oh-- Goodness, no."

Zoe perked up. "What's going on?"

Cynthia didn't answer, but she appeared very shocked. She started walking up to the stairs, and Zoe followed quietly. Larry didn't care. Cynthia stopped in front of Connor's door, listening to the loud music, some old grunge rock.

"Do-- do I tell him?" Cynthia asked. The voice on the other end said something about "it's up to you", and Cynthia nodded, as if the person could know.  "Alright. Tha-Thank you," Cynthia said as the hung up. Zoe raised an eyebrow.

"What's going on? Is Connor okay?"

Cynthia didn't answer, her face paled. She knocked on Connor's door, hearing a groan from inside. Connor turned down the music, yelling a "Fuck off," then turning it up again.

"Connor, this is really important! We have your lab results back!" Cynthia called worriedly, and Connor turned off his music.

It was quiet for a minute.

Then, Connor's door opened and a tired looking, tall, feminine-bodied male came out. "What's wrong with me?"

Cynthia looked up at her son, eyes glazed, and then hugged him tight.

"Is it like, cancer or something?" Connor asked dryly, laughing with slight dampness.

"No, no," Cynthia quickly reassured. "Nothing like that. . ."

They sat down on Connor's black-sheeted bed, Zoe hiding in the hall and listening to the two.

Connor was shaking, but he wouldn't admit it. Cynthia held his hand. The world was quiet, but not calm. Connor didn't know what was wrong with him, it felt like an ongoing flu. A virus. Maybe something more serious, though, the way his mother was handling it. She was shaking and looked paler thank her son.

"You and Jared have sex, right?"

Connor chuckled. "No duh."

"And you always wear condoms?"

"Yeah. We're not stupid."

Cynthia nodded softly. "And you know they only work a good percent of the time, right?"

"What are you saying!?" Connor snapped. "Do you not want me to see him? Does he have AIDs or something? Do I have an STD? Honestly, what the fuck is going on!? Stop being a cryptid and tell me why I'm all extra fucked up lately--"

She cut him off, squeezing his hand. She then hugged him extra tight and rubbed his back in slow, calming circles. She didn't want him to freak out. Or get violent. She then said, in a solemn voice, "You're pregnant."


End file.
